Day of Doom

by David Baldacci

  While Dan did that and Jake and Atticus were getting their stuff ready, Amy texted Evan. It bounced back. She tried to call him. It went to voice mail. She tried to contact Jonah, Hamilton, and Ian. The same result. She wondered if the magnetic pole disruption also had affected wireless communications on the ground. As a test, she texted Dan. He looked up from his computer when the text landed in his mailbox and his phone chirped.

  “Why are you texting me? I’m right here.”

  Amy didn’t answer. Now she knew something was very wrong.

  It was a tight fit.

  Jonah, Hamilton, Ian, Evan, and Phoenix were tied up in a small, darkened room. They were each trying to figure out where they were.

  Evan had counted off the seconds in his head on the drive, and gauging the speed of the van he figured they were about two hours and a hundred miles away from the motel. However, he couldn’t tell in which direction. If south, they would be near Seattle or Tacoma. If north, they could be in Canada.

  He told this to the others.

  “Or east and west,” Ian pointed out.

  “No,” said Evan. “Two hours west and we’re in the ocean. And why go east? The subduction zone is along the coast.”

  Jonah perked up and asked the others if they wanted him to sing to keep their spirits up. “Be glad to do it, bros,” he added with a dazzling smile.

  The immediate consensus was that none of their spirits had reached such a level of depression that warranted Jonah’s musical intervention.

  “Well, just let me know when it does,” Jonah said, attempting to sound cheerful.

  “How about never?” Hamilton mumbled under his breath.

  Phoenix said, “I wonder if they’re going to take us to the other hostages.”

  Ian piped in, “Let’s hope no more of them are dead.” He closed his eyes and a small tear appeared at the edge of his right eyelid.

  A noise made them all fall silent.

  A door opened and a light appeared through the opening. It was just a narrow shaft of illumination. They heard footsteps growing closer. It was still too dark for them to see who it was.

  Ian stiffened and opened his eyes when he felt something press against the back of his head.

  It was the muzzle of a Glock pistol with a suppressor can attached.

  Casper Wyoming’s voice came out of the darkness. “Get up, Kabra. Someone very special wants to see you.”

  “Who?” exclaimed Ian. “My sister?”

  “I said special, not stupid. Like you.”

  Casper jerked Ian up, lifting him completely off the ground. But when Ian came down he made certain that he landed on top of Casper’s foot. Hard.

  “Oww!” yelped Casper.

  “So sorry,” said Ian, trying to hide his grin. “But after all, as you so helpfully pointed out, I am quite stupid.”

  “Maybe I’ll shoot you right here,” growled Casper, putting the gun muzzle against Ian’s head again.

  “I don’t believe you can,” said Ian.

  “Oh, yeah? Why’s that?”

  “As you said, someone very special wants to see me. I’m sure you don’t want to disappoint the person.”

  Hamilton added, “Yeah, you might get in trouble, doofus.”

  Casper eyed him grimly. “Just give me a reason, Holt. Just one reason.”

  “If you untie me, I’ll give you ten of them wrapped around my fists. They’ll be the last things you ever see.”

  “You don’t scare me, muscle man.”

  “Sure I do. And my time will come.”

  Ian snapped, “Let’s get a move on. You don’t want to keep your fearless leader waiting.”

  “Hey, I’m giving the orders around here, not you,” barked Casper.

  “All right. So what action do you propose we take?” Ian stared up at him expectantly.

  Casper hesitated, his mind evidently trying to think of something pithy to come back with. But failing that, he simply said, “Let’s get a move on.”

  “Right,” said Ian, smiling triumphantly. “Bloody well wish I’d thought of that.”

  “Doofus,” muttered Hamilton, staring at Casper.

  Casper pushed Ian forward, slamming the door and locking it behind him.

  Casper led Ian into another room. He turned on a light and Ian blinked to adjust to the brightness. He saw that there was a large TV screen on one wall. Casper hit a button on a console and the screen crackled to life.

  At first the screen remained black, but then someone appeared there. Ian took an involuntary step back, and shuddered.

  His mother, Isabel Kabra, was staring at him.

  Could she see him? Ian wondered. Then he noticed the TV camera bolted to the wall. It was pointing at him.

  As if in answer to his unspoken question, his mother snapped, “Of course I can see you.”

  “What do you want?” retorted Ian.

  “You have betrayed me. You have turned against your own family.”

  “No, you’re the one that turned against us,” Ian said hotly.

  She ignored this. “However, being of a kind and compassionate nature —”

  Ian snorted at this remark, but she ignored this, too, and continued. “The only reason you’re not dead is because, in keeping with my compassionate nature, I have decided to give you a second chance.”

  “Why?” he shot back.

  “I’m a loving, caring mother and, therefore, I don’t want to have to kill my own son.”

  Ian scowled. “I don’t believe anything you say.”

  “I’m on my way out to see you, son. And your sister, Natalie. If you’re smart, and I hope you are, you will reconsider your loyalties and side with me. If you continue to support the Cahills, only death awaits you. And your sister. It will be out of my hands. It really will be.”

  “You don’t care what happens to us. You bloody well shot your own daughter!”

  “It was just a flesh wound. To my knowledge, no one has ever died from being shot in the foot. Perhaps a permanent limp, a bit of arthritis, but is that really so bad?”

  “You’re barking mad. You could’ve killed her.”

  “On the contrary, did you know that certain of the Vespers did want to kill your sister? I intervened and they shot Nellie Gomez instead. Worse the luck she survived. Why aim for the shoulder when a perfectly good head was right there? I will never understand. However, the fact remains: But for me, your precious sister would be dead. So, you see, dear boy, I do care.”

  “They should have kept you in prison. You simply bought your way out. It’s pathetic.”

  Isabel took a step closer, nearly filling the screen. The charm bracelet she never took off rattled on her wrist. “I raised you to be a Lucian. I raised you to be loyal.” She paused and added quietly, “I suppose I should tell you.”

  “Tell me what?”

  “I’m dying.”

  Ian snorted. “Right. Do you think I’m a fool?”

  She held up her arm and let her sleeve slide down. There was a large reddish-purple mass on it.

  “Poisoned, Ian. Slow-acting, but irreversible. From the South American blowfish. My death will not be pretty.”

  Ian stared at the disfigured arm. It looked quite painful, but he knew his mother too well to be fooled. “How could someone poison you? You’re the queen of poisoners. You poison others, not the other way around.”

  “I went to visit your father, Vikram.”

  “What? Why?” Ian hadn’t seen his father in quite some time. Not since Vikram had fled the country for South America after abandoning his family.

  “He’s my husband. I love him. I’ve always loved him. He had fallen ill. Nothing life threatening, but he was in the hospital. But it was really a trap set by my enemies. Instead of seeing your father I got this, administered by a kindly old woman dressed as a nurse who I took to be totally harmless until she stuck the needle into my arm.” She paused. “I calculate that I have at most five days to live.” She lowered her arm and her s
leeve slid back down. “The organ shutdown will be massive and linear. Death will follow almost immediately.”

  “I . . . I don’t believe you.”

  “I completely understand why you feel that way, son.”

  This response surprised Ian. He had always assumed that his mother would never understand how another person felt about anything.

  She said, “But the fact is, as one grows close to death, the only thing that matters is family, Ian. I hope you can see that.”

  Isabel’s tone had lost its aggressiveness. It was lower, gentler. Her features had softened, too. She was a very attractive woman when she wasn’t running around as a homicidal maniac killing people and shouting things like, “Everyone must die. Now!”

  Ian stared into his mother’s big eyes.

  “But if you saved Natalie, then you were behind her kidnapping. It’s the only way you could have known where she was.”

  “That’s not so, Ian. I wasn’t behind it. Someone else was. When I found out I took the steps necessary to see that my children were not hurt.”

  “When I called and told you Natalie had been taken, you said you didn’t have any children.”

  “Because that’s how I felt back then, son. I felt abandoned. By you and your sister. You must forgive an unfortunate choice of words.”

  “So what’s changed, then?”

  She held up her damaged arm once more. “This. This has changed. This makes a person stop and think. Reprioritize. I’m not immortal, Ian. I’m nearly fifty, even though I barely look thirty. But I don’t have all that much time left. I want to make the most of it.”

  She drew a deep breath and focused those large, soft eyes on her son.

  “I want my family, what’s left of it, back, Ian. I want my children back. With their mother, where they belong.”

  Ian was sniffling now. “How do I know I can trust you?”

  “How can anyone know that about anyone? But you are a Lucian. You can’t deny that. You competed mightily against Amy and Dan and the others, and you did well. Very well. It was your true nature. And being Lucians, our natural home is with the Vespers. It’s how we’re wired. We’re not tree huggers. We’re not for the greater good. We’re for the greater us. But now here you are, working with them. And against your family. How can that be, son? You are going against everything you believe in. Indeed, I’m the one who should be asking how I can trust you.”

  Ian broke down crying. “I’m . . . I’m sorry, Mother. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s all right, baby. Mother knows.” Her voice was silky smooth, comforting. “Don’t cry, my sweet boy. It will be all right. Mother will make it all right.”

  Ian wiped his eyes. “What do you want me to do?”

  “You have to prove your loyalty to me, Ian. It is imperative in my final days on earth.”

  “How?”

  “It will not be easy. But the important things in life never are.”

  “What is it?”

  “I want you to kill one of the hostages. Not your sister, of course. But any of the others will do. If you execute that order, I will welcome you and your sister back into the family with open arms for the time I have left.”

  “Do I really have to?” he wailed. “I mean, kill someone?”

  “Yes, darling, you really do,” she cooed back. “But it won’t be that hard. Just think like a Lucian. It’ll come naturally. We’re very good at killing. It’s not actually that difficult. You just have to really want to.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “The consequences will be severe, Ian. For you and your sister. I hope I’ve made myself clear. I love you both, but I’ve worked too hard to let my grand plan slip away.”

  “Can I ask a favor first?” said Ian timidly.

  Isabel’s face hardened but almost immediately relaxed once more. “Certainly, sweetheart. Ask away.”

  “I’d like to see Natalie. I’ve really missed her.”

  “Of course, baby. Of course you can see her. You’re right. You’ve been separated for far too long. You’ll see her right now.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  She blew him a little kiss. “I’ll see you soon, darling.”

  On a cue from Isabel, Casper led Ian away.

  A figure came out of the shadows. It was Cheyenne. She looked at Isabel, who was still up on the screen.

  Cheyenne said, “I hope you’re not getting weak.”

  “Meaning what precisely?” snapped Isabel.

  “You told Ian not to kill his sister.”

  “Oh, that?” Isabel laughed. “That was rather selfish on my part.”

  “Yeah, I get that. She’s your daughter.”

  Isabel’s features turned ice-cold. “I have no daughter. I didn’t want Ian to kill her because if he fails to do what I have instructed, I want the pleasure of killing them both. Personally. Now why don’t you go do something useful, like maim someone? Oh, and tell that thickheaded brother of yours that if he screws up again like he did in Switzerland, there won’t be enough left of him to put in a tablespoon.”

  “Sorry to hear about your being poisoned,” Cheyenne said snidely.

  Isabel smiled imperiously. “You didn’t really believe that rubbish, did you?” She held up her arm, revealing the ugly mass. She rubbed at it with a cloth she took from her pocket. The colors from the mass came off on the cloth.

  “Works great for Halloween parties, too,” she said icily.

  “You are one cold woman.”

  “Well, cold beats warmth every time. And don’t ever forget it.”

  The screen went black.

  The Chicago Limited train pulled out of Union Station in Washington, DC, with a long groan of metal wheels on metal rails. The train was packed because, ironically enough in the twenty-first century, with all flights grounded, the train was proving the only real option left to cover exceptionally long distances. Few people wanted to spend a solid week driving themselves across the country. Indeed, Amtrak had added more cars to allow for the sudden demand to ride the rails instead of the not-so-friendly skies.

  Dan and Amy were sharing one sleeper compartment while Jake and Atticus were rooming together in another. Dan sat glumly in his little seat, staring out the window. He checked his cell phone. Reception was spotty. He keyed his laptop, tried to get on the Internet. He succeeded, and then when they went through a tunnel, he lost the connection. He sighed and looked at Amy.

  “This sucks,” he said.

  “What does?”

  “I feel like I’m back in the nineteenth century. What do we take after the train, a stagecoach?”

  “It is what it is, Dan,” replied Amy. “And need I remind you that the train was your idea?”

  “That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

  Amy looked back down at the book she was reading.

  “Is that chick lit?” asked Dan sullenly.

  “And what if it is?” she shot back.

  “The world is about to end and you’re reading about guys and girls and sappy love stories?”

  She held up the book. “It’s actually a book on subduction zones and their geological makeup. I found it in the science section of the train station bookstore. So no sappy love stories required.”

  Dan’s face flushed and he looked away. “Good, okay, just checking.”

  Amy shook her head and went back to reading.

  Dan’s cell phone vibrated. When he looked down his heart nearly stopped. He quickly glanced up to see if his sister had heard the vibration, but she still was reading her book.

  Dan quietly picked up the phone and read the text that had just dropped in his mailbox. It was from his father. Dan had been getting a series of these. It was his only thread of hope that his father had not perished in the fire with Dan’s mother, Hope Cahill. But it was not as simple as that. While Dan wanted to believe that his father was a good man and loved his children, he was far from convinced this was the case. In fact, part of Dan suspected his father of being Ve
sper One. If he was alive, that meant he had escaped from the fire Isabel Kabra had set. If he had escaped, that meant he had left his wife — their mother — to die in the flames. That was unforgivable.

  Arthur Trent had been a nonlinear dynamics and quantum field theory professor. Dan had no real idea what that meant, but he assumed one had to be pretty smart to teach it. His father also had been a Vesper, although he had thought it was just a cool secret society and not the source of global menace. He had dropped out of West Point and been given the assignment of tracking down Hope Cahill and making her fall in love with him. But Arthur had learned some awful things about the Vespers by then. And the other thing was, he’d fallen in love with Dan’s mother. For real. Renouncing the Vespers, he and Hope Cahill had spent much of their life together on the run from their enemies, namely the Vespers, who felt betrayed by Dan’s father.

  That was one version of the facts. But Dan could not get over the suspicion that he was being played. That his father was actually evil and working with the Vespers.

  Dan looked down at the text again.

  Have the serum ready, son. It may be the only thing that would allow us to be victorious.

  Dan had spent a lot of time and effort collecting the strange ingredients necessary to make the formula. He glanced at his knapsack. And in there, hidden in the depths of his other stuff, was the silver flask with the completed serum.

  He surreptitiously thumbed a text back to his father.

  Stop texting me. If you are alive, then you left Mom to die. If you did that, I hate you.

  The response came back immediately. I tried to save your mother. I was badly burned in the fire. I’ve had to go into hiding to avoid capture by the Vespers. I am working against them and with you, son. I wish I could prove it to you, but I can’t. I don’t blame you for being suspicious. Your mother and I taught you to be independent and look out for danger because we wanted you to be prepared. But I want you to know that whatever happens, I love you and your sister. And I will do anything I can to help you. I hope one day we can all be reunited.

  As Dan read this text his heart grew heavy and his eyes misty.

  He debated for a long time before answering this text.

  It’s ready. I will not fail. Dan.